


Night Watch

by Defira



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Beginnings, Bisexual Female Character of Color, F/F, Female Relationships, Fluff, Heartache, Romantic Friendship, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Emma and Mary Margaret return to Storybrooke, Mulan and Aurora are left with the very real possibility that they might be the last two people in the Enchanted Realm. While they are agreed on their commitment to rescue Phillip's soul from the clutches of the wraith, they still have a lot to learn about each other, and humility is a necessity when your travelling companion is the only other person in the whole world.</p><p>Love is not always a lightning bolt moment- sometimes it blooms from the smallest of seeds. Sometimes friendship can grow into something more. And sometimes, the princesses might be too busy with each other to remember to rescue the prince. </p><p>Fluff and the beginnings of love, written for Femslash February/the Fembruary Challenge on Tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Watch

The forest could get cold at night.

It was hard to recall if it had always been this way, or if the stark absence of life in the world made it seem hollow and empty, a land without a lifeblood. Mist and snow and rain and frost- none of them were uncommon, but without the distant echo of civilisation, the subtle vibrations of a world teeming with life, it seemed much colder.

Lonely.

Which was why Aurora was immensely grateful for Mulan- trying to contemplate making her way through the woods alone was just too awful to think about. If Phillip had been taken by the wraith, and Mulan had not been there...

Well. Thankfully that had not come to pass. The pain of Phillip’s death would have been a thousand times more unbearable than it already was if she’d been forced to bear it alone. At least she had found comfort with Mulan.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, glancing around at the darkening forest as if all manner of wild beasts were about to lunge at her from the shadows. Had the curse taken the monsters as well as the people? It certainly hadn’t taken the ogres, that was for sure, or the wraith. 

So much had changed in such a short time, and the forest she had raced through as a child was all but dead. This was a land of death and misery and emptiness, a land without hope. 

She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes. She had a tiny sliver of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness- and it was all thanks to the woman opposite her. 

If Mulan had the faith to keep fighting, then she would too. 

“We’ll have to take shifts,” Mulan said, stoking the fire until the flames crackled merrily, tongues of fire licking eagerly upwards. The sun was sinking fast, the forest a sombre purple as the darkness crept slowly across the sky. “We can’t both be asleep at once.”

“Why do we have to take shifts?” Aurora asked, cracking an eye open and frowning at her over the fire. “Why don’t I just do it?”

Mulan glared back. “You need your sleep, Aurora,” she said firmly, her jaw set stubbornly. “Just because the others have gone back to their realm does not mean you suddenly have leave to abandon the progress you have made.”

Her tone was commanding, and Aurora felt slightly taken aback. “I am not abandoning _anything_ ,” she said, trying her best not to sound like a petulant child. “I’m simply stating fact. I do not require as much sleep as you, nor do I wish to sleep. It would be better for us both if you got a full night’s sleep.”

The deepening shadows made the scowl on Mulan’s face look sharper than it was probably meant to be- at least, that’s what Aurora told herself. “While I appreciate that you are trying to be both practical and supportive, it is not conducive to your health or recovery to deny yourself sleep. I promised Phillip that I would look after you and-”

Aurora threw her hands in the air in annoyance. “Of course! Because everything comes down to your vow to him, not what _I_ actually feel or want.”

“You cannot go without sleep Aurora,” Mulan said firmly.

“And you cannot stay awake forever waiting for me to fall asleep,” Aurora said defiantly. “Phillip, god rest his soul, undoubtedly had my best intentions at heart when he gave you that command, but he is not here right now.” Her voice wobbled, the pain in her heart a fierce ache that made it hard to breathe. “And I can assure you, I know better than he what it is that I need in order to recover.”

And it was not the mirrored room of flames, that was certain. 

Mulan was silent, staring across the fire at her. Aurora lifted her chin and returned the stare obstinately; she refused to be cowed in the matter. Finally Mulan exhaled noisily, almost a grunt of displeasure, and looked away. “You would know better than I what it is that your body requires,” she said stiffly. She climbed to her feet, and Aurora eyed her suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“Heading out to find food,” Mulan said, stooping to collect her sword from the ground. “We’re okay for water, but we need something to eat.”

“And you’re leaving me here?”

“You’ll be fine,” Mulan said, not looking at her. “Ogres are mostly blind, so as long as you stay quiet, you’ll be safe.”

“I’m not worried about being safe, I’m wondering why I can’t come with you.”

“I need to hunt,” Mulan said bluntly. “And that’s not generally something they teach a princess.”

Aurora felt a surge of irritation at the assumption, and couldn’t help herself. “There were rabbits just back down the trail,” she said, gesturing the in the direction from which they had come. “I could see evidence of their passing. And there was a blackberry bush further up the hill, about ten minutes walk away.”

Mulan paused halfway through attaching her sword belt, her expression verging on disbelief. “You... saw the rabbits? As in, you actually saw them sitting by the trail?”

Aurora shook her head. “No, but I could tell they’d been in the area. It’s rather hard to miss, once you know what you’re looking for.”

Mulan’s expression blossomed into full skepticism. “You know how to read an animal trail,” she said dubiously. “An actual animal trail.”

Aurora felt her cheeks redden. “There’s no need to remind me that you think me incompetent,” she said hotly, looking away. 

“No, no, it’s not-” She glanced back in time to see Mulan scowling furiously, biting into her lip. She raised her eyebrows at her and waited for her to apologise. “It is not a skill I would have assumed you to possess,” Mulan finished diplomatically. 

It wasn’t precisely an apology, but it was something. 

“I... I lived in the woods for many years as a child, with my godmothers.” At the time she had thought that life to be idyllic, and not at all unusual. Running through the woods until dark, dirty feet and skinned knees, climbing trees and swimming in icy cold streams under the watchful eye of the three women she had assumed were her aunts. “I was not always confined to a world of dresses and dancing and princes.”

Mulan gazed at her for several long moments, the firelight reflecting in her dark eyes and turning them to gold. She was a striking woman, in so many ways, once you were accustomed to her rather intimidating presence. Where her gaze would have once made her fidget and glance away uncomfortably, she stared back steadily, waiting to see what her final reaction would be.

Finally, Mulan ducked her head. “Apologies, Aurora,” she said softly. “I more than anyone should know that appearances are not always as they seem.”

There was something in her voice that made Aurora’s heart ache for her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she said just as quietly, watching the way the firelight flickered over her face, setting her eyes to flame and her skin to burnished gold. She was so fierce, so strong, and right in that moment she realised what a huge vulnerability Mulan had willingly shown her. 

It was humbling.

“I’m sorry for being argumentative,” she said, offering her a small smile. “I’ll sit here and keep the fire going, if you want to find food for us.”

Mulan nodded respectfully to her, a palpable wave of relief washing over her. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, a smile on her face, before running out into the darkness. Aurora watched her go, the ache in her heart burning sharper as the night swallowed her up. Phillip had said something similar, smiling as he promised her he would return shortly.

 _Mulan is not Phillip_ , she told herself sharply, fiddling with her skirts. And the wraith had feasted well, unlikely to bother them again as long as they did not return for the medallion. 

Mulan was a capable woman, and she was only going to be gone for a few minutes. An hour at most. She repeated it to herself constantly, and told herself it was natural to care about the safety of the only other person in her world, her only companion and- dare she say it- friend. It was completely acceptable for her to sit and twist her fingers into the ratty edges of her gown, watching the darkness, jumping at every crack and echo that sounded through the trees. 

Her heart was in her throat for the safety of her friend, her only friend. A woman who could easily have dropped her like she was made of hot steel the moment Phillip was dead- he was gone, after all, and not everyone honoured a promise to the dead. 

But she was still here, and she cared. Enough that she had blamed herself for the theft of Aurora’s heart, and had fought tooth and nail to get it back for her. 

_Mulan is not Phillip_ , she told herself, staring into the darkness. _She will come back._

She tried to distract herself while she was gone, laying out their cloaks for somewhere to sleep, adding wood to the fire, fiddling with the loose and dirty threads coming loose from the bottom of her gown. She toyed with the idea of finding somewhere to bathe, and maybe wash their clothes- it wasn’t like anyone would be likely to come across them in a state of undress. There wasn’t anyone to pry in the first place. 

She was humming to herself while she attempted to mend a particularly bad tear in the hem of her gown with a needle she’d found in their small bag of supplies, when a large crack sounded close behind her. She shrieked, and lurched to her feet, spinning about to face the intruder, groping about for some sort of weapon-

Mulan appeared from out of the darkness, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her forward. “Careful!” she chastised, stepping behind her and brushing at the back of her legs. Aurora felt her face heat instantly- her gown was really not all that substantial, and she could feel Mulan’s hands quite clearly. “You stepped too close to the fire. Your hem started smoking.”

“Oh,” Aurora said faintly, glancing back over her shoulder. The heat in her face was more from mortification now than anything else, but there was still a bubbly little fizzle playing in her belly that felt like something else entirely. Something that she usually only associated with her beloved Phillip. “Well, um... thank you.”

Mulan looked at her oddly, her eyes crinkled in amusement. “You’re welcome,” she said dryly; it was then Aurora noticed the two rabbits carcasses she had slung over her shoulder.

“Oh! You found food, how excellent.”

“Couldn’t find the blackberries,” Mulan said, setting the rabbits down on the far side of the fire. “It was a bit too dark for me to safely go venturing into a thorn patch.”

“Understandably,” Aurora said, settling herself down on the cloak again. “I can go looking in the morning.”

“ _We_ can go looking in the morning,” Mulan corrected.

Aurora scowled at her. “I’m perfectly capable of picking berries by myself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Mulan said, nudging a rock out of the fire with her sword and setting the skinned carcasses down on it. There was a hiss and a burst of steam, and the smell of sizzling meat a moment later. She pushed it back towards the flames with the tip of her sword and left it to cook. “But going alone to pick berries while there are ogres about is never a good idea.”

“ _You_ went alone to hunt the rabbits,” Aurora said pointedly.

“I have a sword. And I know how to use it.”

Aurora didn’t really have a good retort to that, so instead she ducked her head, scowling to herself as she kept working on the torn hem. She’d accidentally pricked herself with the needle when Mulan had startled her, and she put her finger into her mouth, wincing at the small sting and the coppery tang of the blood. 

And of course, from other less pleasant memories from the last time she’d pricked her finger. 

The smell of the meat filled the air, and Mulan took her lack of response as a request for silence; as Aurora worked on her sewing, Mulan took out a rag and a small vial of a pungent smelling oil and began to polish her blade. The metal caught the firelight and glimmered like precious metal. 

As she sewed, Aurora began to relax- there was a domesticity to the scene that was comforting, a touch of normalcy in their otherwise complicated lives. She began to hum softly under her breath, a sad little song that one of her godmothers had sung to her at night when she was younger.

“ _There is a beautiful girl to whom I’ve given my love,_ ” she murmured, smiling to herself at the memories. She always liked to imagine that the singer in the song was her mother, delighted to hold her in her arms again after so many long years apart.. “ _She’s lovelier and more beautiful than the bloom of the rose. Without her in my arms, I am desolate. O beautiful girl, you’re the cause of my sorrow._ ”

It took her a moment to realise that there was a harmony to her song, the melody so subtle and so perfectly pitched with her own that she did not notice it to start with. She glanced over, to find Mulan softly singing along with her, and she was so stunned that she fumbled with the words and muddled the song. Mulan glanced over at her instantly, and her cheeks reddened when she saw her gaping at her. 

“My apologies,” she began, “I did not mean to interru-”

“No, no, no!” Aurora said quickly. “Please don’t apologise, I just... was surprised?”

Mulan smiled ruefully. “You didn’t think I could sing?”

“No, not at all, I just-” She stammered to a halt, her own cheeks growing hot. “Alright. I was surprised you could sing. That was terribly rude of me, and I apologise.”

“Just because I am skilled with a blade does not mean I do not have other skills. Just as you are not defined by the silk of your gowns, I am not defined by the strength of my sword arm.”

“I know, I know, and it was awful of me to jump to conclusions, and I feel wretched, and-”

“Aurora, it’s fine,” Mulan said. 

Oh, how wretchedly embarrassing. “Where did you learn such an art?” she asked, desperate to change the subject. For a long moment, Mulan did not answer her, and she was certain that- despite the other woman assuring her otherwise- she had caused offense. It was all she could do not to wring her hands together and babble apologies at her.

“I was not always in the army,” Mulan said softly, staring into the fire. There was something sorrowful about her, an air of... regret, maybe? Longing? It was hard to say. “I am a woman, and for many years it was expected I would walk a more... _feminine_ path. I learned the skills required of a noble woman.”

The way she hesitated over the word feminine made Aurora pause. “But I don’t understand,” she said, “you’re one of the most noble women I’ve ever met.”

Mulan laughed softly. “Not noble of character, noble of status,” she corrected. “I was born to a... very prestigious family, and it was assumed that I would accept the fate set aside for me. That I would marry a general, bear him sons, bring great honour to my family...”

When she trailed to a halt, Aurora waited for her to continue. When it was obvious she had no intention of continuing the story, she said “That doesn’t sound particularly bad. At the very least, you would have a family? People who love you?”

“I would have been little more than an ornament,” Mulan said. There was no bitterness in her voice, but neither was there any fire. “A pretty thing for my husband to trot out to amuse his guests. My children would have grown up under the guidance of servants, not by my hand. It was not a life for me, no matter how hard I tried to make it so.”

There was something in her voice that made Aurora wonder whether that fate had already come to pass, and Mulan had walked away from it. Had she left as naught but a girl, finding her own way in the world? Or was she a songbird from a gilded cage, flying free beyond the reach of her masters?

“So you learned singing?” she asked tentatively.

Mulan’s lips twisted in the approximation of a smile, but there was no joy in it. “Singing, dancing, calligraphy, painting, when to speak, when to breathe- my education was fairly extensive.”

“It sounds as if you learned more than I did about being a lady!” When Mulan gave her a withering look she said “Raised in the woods, remember?”

“You are the finest woman I know,” Mulan said, staring into the fire. “Phillip spoke endlessly of your grace and your beauty, and he did not speak falsely.”

Aurora blushed. “That’s kind of you to say,” she said. “Did you, um...” She scrabbled about for something to say. “Did you excel at anything in particular? You’re very good at singing.”

“I know a great deal of poetry, some of which is set to music,” Mulan said. She cleared her throat and glanced away awkwardly. “I have one in particular which I think may be of interest to you.”

It was hard not to clap her hands in delight. “A song? For me? That would be utterly wonderful!”

Mulan smiled hesitantly, her eyes flickering to her for a brief moment and then away. She was nervous, obviously, but she continued. “It’s an old song, by a very great poet. I’ll sing it in Trade, for your sake- I’m afraid the words won’t mean a great deal to you in my language.”

Aurora waited patiently, eyes shining with excitement, while Mulan stared into the fire gathering her courage. When she finally began, Aurora had to lean forward, her voice so soft that it was almost lost in the crackle of the flames. She had a beautiful voice, strong and haunting, and Aurora was rapt in moments. 

_“A bright moon rising over the sea,_  
Shores apart, watching the same  
Is someone dear to me.” 

Aurora felt tears spring to her eyes at the heartfelt longing in the words, the anguished plea for someone beyond reach. 

_“I loathe this endless night;  
And could not sleep but think of thee.”_

She felt her lip trembling, and held a hand up to her mouth to stop herself from gasping aloud. It was as if the song had been written for her, _about_ her, and the way it felt like only half her heart resided in her chest anymore. The sleepless nights, the mirrored room of flames in her dreams- oh, if anyone loathed the endless night, it was her. 

_“In this full moon light,_  
Who cares for candlelight?  
Stepping out I don my gown,  
And feel dew on the ground." 

Aurora was transfixed, tears shimmering on her lashes, fingers twisted tightly into her gown. The song was magnificent, painful in the most beautiful way, and Mulan’s voice had a way of expressing the heartache so perfectly, the emotion raw and true.

_“I wish to offer you moonlight in a handful,  
But, to my real shame, ‘tis impossible.”_

This time Aurora did gasp, as Mulan’s eyes met hers over the fire. There was such pain there, longing and regret and bitterness and reluctance all burning as fiercely as the flames between them. 

_“Retiring to my bed, it seems,  
I might find happier days in dreams.”_

Her voice trailed to a close, the notes lingering in the air. Aurora could scarcely breathe, her chest tight, her eyes burning from the tears. Mulan was staring at her, her expression unreadable now that the song had faded. 

Aurora took a deep breath. “Mulan,” she said hesitantly.

There was a bird screech out in the forest, and they both jumped, a tiny squeak passing from Aurora’s lips. After it became obvious that it was nothing more than an owl, they both laughed shakily, each glancing at the other and quickly away, nervous smiles lingering. 

“That was so beautiful,” Aurora said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “And so perfect. It’s like it was written just for me.”

Mulan was silent for a moment. “I thought so too,” she said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.

She pulled the rabbits from the fire, and they ate in silence, picking the meat from the thin bones, tossing away the charred bits. It was hardly a feast, but for empty bellies it was sorely welcome. 

Aurora tried to discreetly wipe her hands on her cloak, her fingers greasy from the meat, but discretion was impossible when it came to cleaning her face. She felt like a wild forest child again, not the daintily composed princess that everyone thought her to be. 

She glanced over at Mulan, who was doing her best to hide a yawn behind her hand. She cut it off abruptly when she noticed Aurora watching her, blinking furiously as she tried to hold it in.

Aurora couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “If you want to sleep, Mulan, I can keep watch,” she said, spreading her skirts around her in a circle to keep her legs warm. “I’ll be fine.”

“You need your rest,” Mulan said mulishly, her jaw set just as stubbornly as earlier.

Aurora fought the urge to sigh in frustration. “Sleeping is hardly restful for me. I can keep watch over you, and you can keep me safe tomorrow. It’s a fair deal.”

Mulan stared at her, her thoughts her own. “You _will_ wake me in a few hours so that we can swap,” she said, her resolve clearly starting to wear thin as weariness overtook her.

She shrugged. “Perhaps. If I feel that you need your sleep, maybe I won’t.”

“ _Aurora-_ ”

“ _Mulan_ ,” she countered in the same nagging tone. “Would you nag Phillip like this?”

That earned a smile from her. “Actually I would,” she said, chuckling under her breath as she looked to her hands. “So you can rest easy with the knowledge I don’t offer favouritism, princess.”

“Oh.” Well, that was... something. It certainly knocked the wind out of her sails, that was for sure. “Well, regardless- you need rest. Please, Mulan, sleep- if not for yourself, then for me. You cannot defend me if you are exhausted.”

She was finally gaining ground, if the reluctant expression on Mulan’s face was anything to go by. “Very well,” she said, almost petulantly. “I’ll sleep for just a few hours, then we can swap.”

Aurora very badly wanted to roll her eyes or tut her tongue at her, but she resisted. “Of course we can,” she said soothingly. “Get some rest for now, and we can change later in the night.”

Mulan finally relented, lying down on her cloak and adjusting her pack to act as a lumpy pillow. Aurora smiled encouragingly at her, and Mulan smiled back before closing her eyes. Within a few minutes her breathing had slowed, her expression relaxed. 

The warrior woman was... interesting, to say the least. Proud and stubborn, fiercely loyal- and with hidden depths that Aurora would never have guessed at during their first meeting. She hadn’t lied earlier- Mulan was one of the most noble women she had ever met, and her heart was brave and true. She was lovely, and in sleep the more severe lines on her face had relaxed, leaving her looking much younger and gentler than she appeared during the light of day. 

Aurora had precious few friends in life- being raised in isolation in the woods by three eccentric aunts tended to do that to a girl. When she’d been returned to court at her coming of age, her reappearance had prompted little but jealousy and pettiness from the other noble girls.

It made her chest a little less tight, knowing that Mulan was her friend. And a dear one at that. 

And she watched Mulan sleep, and smiled to herself at the absurdity of the situation. A royal princess raised in the forest, travelling with a warrior with a past that hinted at nobility, hunting for a way to rescue a sleeping prince. The Sleeping Beauty keeping watch over the Warrior Princess, while the heroic prince slumbered in a deathly sleep. 

It was rather the opposite of what she’d been expecting when she’d woken from the curse, but she couldn’t find it in her to feel regret. 

Instead she looked to Mulan, sleeping quietly through the fire, and smiled. 

It was nice to imagine that she would be so lucky as to see something half as comforting through the flames the next time she was touched by cursed fire. 

And she hummed old songs to herself, and let Mulan sleep through the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Aurora's song is the gaelic love song An Cailín Álainn (The Beautiful Girl) and can be heard here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twlpLMvjH0M
> 
> Mulan's poem is Thoughts Afar in the Moonlight by Zhang Jiu Ling (translated by YK Kwan) and can be found here: http://www.orientalwomentalk.net/Lovepoems.html


End file.
